Their ears rang from the noise, and the sudden, awful smell of thick smoke and petrol engulfed them as Church threw the car on to the hard shoulder; the accident had happened too fast for the vehicles ahead to attempt the same route. Behind them and to the side, cars were still smashing into the carnage. Ruth thought she could hear terrible screams buried in the sounds of wreckage, but she convinced herself it was just an illusion. A juggernaut jackknifed and was lost to the fire. A motorcyclist skidded along at ground level, his arms raised in a futile attempt to ward off the inevitable. And more, and more, too much to bear. They turned their heads away as one, and Church hit the accelerator, launching the car forward. The nearside wheels churned up mud and grass on the bank; the rear end skidded wildly, but he kept his foot to the floor. As they approached the inferno at breakneck speed, Ruth screamed and threw her arms across her face, Tom dropped flat on the seat and Church closed his eyes and whispered a prayer.
The heat made his skin bloom and he half-expected the glass to implode, but then they were through it and racing across the empty motorway ahead.
'God,' Ruth said in shock. She clasped her hands together in her lap to stop them shaking.
Church slowed down and headed towards one of the emergency phones on the hard shoulder.
'Don't stop!' Tom yelled. 'The worm will still be here. It doesn't give up easily!' Then he added with exasperation, 'Don't you see? It's after us.'
Church swung the car in a wide arc until they faced the wall of fire. Vehicles had backed up on the other side of the central barrier. In the distance came the sound of sirens.
'What are you doing?' Tom snapped.
'I have to see for myself.' Church leaned forward over the wheel and searched the skies. He and Ruth saw it at the same moment, just a glimmer at first, high above the billowing grey smoke. But as it came lower it fell into focus and they both froze in their seats. They saw glints of copper and gold and green as the red glare of the fire burnished its scales. A scarlet eye as bright as a brake light. Enormous, leathery wings that beat the air with a slow, heavy rhythm, and a long tail that writhed and twisted behind it as if it had a separate existence. As it swooped low, it opened its mouth wide and belched a gush of golden-orange fire that sprayed into the inferno and sent another torrent of flames spouting high. Its movements were fluid as it soared on the air currents, terrifying and majestic at the same time.
'I don't believe it,' Ruth said in hushed, incredulous tones. Church's head was spinning.
'They have been away too long, excluded against their will. They miss their old places,' said Tom.
'I don't believe it,' Church echoed in a mix of wonder and fear.
Tom rested a hand on his shoulder. 'We have to be away. It will soon realise we've escaped its first strike.'
'What the hell's going on?' Church spun round in a rage. 'You know. Tell us!'
'I told you.' Tom's tone was darker than he intended. 'They've recognised you. They won't let you live.'
'Stop procrastinating-'
Ruth caught his arm, signalling that it wasn't the time or the place. 'Where will we go?' she said in dismay. 'Look at the speed of it. It won't take long to catch us, however fast we're driving.'
'There's only one place we can be assured of safety until dawn comes,' Tom replied. 'But it's still a long journey from here. We have to get the wind behind us and pray to God we reach there first.'
Following Tom's directions, Church put the pedal to the floor until they reached the next exit, where they took the A346 south. An oppressive silence lay on them as they each struggled with the terrible sights they had witnessed. Even with the window down, Church couldn't clear the stink of burning from his nose, and when he glanced at Ruth, he saw in the flicker of the street lamps her cheeks were wet. Behind all the churning emotions was an incomprehension at how they had suddenly found themselves in a situation where terrible, unbelievable forces had emerged from the shadows to target them alone. There seemed no reason for the magnitude of the power ranged against them, or for the unflinching focus of its cold eye.
Tom barely removed his head from the rear window shelf, where he was pressing his face against the glass in numerous contortions to search the skies. The thick cloud cover made it impossible to get a clear view, but the wind had blown the rain away and the driving was easier.
'I don't believe what we saw there,' Church said quietly. 'What's going on?' He glanced in the mirror at Tom. 'I said, what's going on? You weren't surprised by that thing-'
'I've seen one before,' Tom replied. 'And I'll tell you all about it when we get where we're going. If we get there.'
Church shook his head incredulously, then glanced at Ruth for support. She caught his eye for a second, then looked away.
The road was straight, but slow after the motorway, and seemed very old. Grassy banks and ancient wire fences lined it, punctuated at intervals by bursts of elder and bushy hawthorn. There seemed little habitation on either side away in the dark where fields stretched up to the downy hills. The route dipped and rose so it was always hard to see too far ahead and Church had to temper his speed accordingly. They eventually passed a golf club and two large thatched cottages with lights burning brightly in the windows; Church felt oddly warmed by the sight.
After a while they burst from the dark, worrying countryside into Marlborough, the road sweeping down through its age-old buildings, jumbled topsyturvy in a mix of pastel shades.
'Have we lost it?' Church asked anxiously. 'We must have by now.'
'We won't be able to evade it,' Tom said distractedly. 'All we can hope is we reach our destination before it.'
'You're telling me it can recognise the make and model of a dark-coloured car at night, from hundreds of feet overhead?' Church said.
'She isn't looking,' Tom replied obliquely. 'The Fabulous Beasts are highly sensitive. She knows our signature. She can locate us from miles distant.'
'She?' Church said incredulously. 'How do you know so much about something that shouldn't exist? Christ, tell me something! This is driving me insane!'
There was a long silence until Ruth said, 'You're wasting your breath, Church. Just keep your eyes on the road.'
Still heading south, Tom directed them through Pewsey alongside the Avon, guarded by the stone bulk of its twelfth century church. In the countryside beyond, the road was so dark the driving became even more difficult. Trees clustered in tightly, with only the occasional light of a farm off in the distance breaking through the branches. But through Upavon they became aware of a change in the countryside as Salisbury Plain rolled in, bleak and uncompromising. The military presence was unmissable, with signs for armoured vehicle crossings and tank tracks tearing up the landscape on both sides. There were high, chainlink fences topped with barbed wire and a checkpoint for the forces off to the left.
The sight sparked an idea in Church. 'Why haven't the RAF scrambled to shoot it down? There's an early warning base at Lyneham.'
Tom was distracted and nervous, glancing repeatedly out of the window to ascertain their relative position. 'They won't know it's there unless they happen to glance up to see it. And then they wouldn't believe their eyes.'
'It must register on radar at that size.'
'It belongs to the old world. Technology can't comprehend it.' As they passed Figheldean in a blur of sodium glare, he said darkly, 'I see her. She is circling up high, trying to find us.'
For a while the trees offered some cover, but then Tom caught his breath. 'She's seen us. Drive faster!'
'I'm just about blowing a piston now!' Church grunted.
Ruth wound down the window and hung her head out, fighting against the buffeting slipstream. At first she could see nothing, but then the clouds parted to reveal the moon and the Fabulous Beast caught in its milky luminescence, its scales glinting like polished metal; for the briefest instant, it appeared to be made out of silver. Its wings, at full stretch, could span a football pitch. They looked like dark leather which at times seemed scarlet, and then emerald, sparkling as if dusted with gold. Occasionally Ruth could make out its eyes glowing like the landing lights of a plane. She pulled her head in and said in hushed awe, 'It's magnificent.'
'What's it doing now?' Church felt the sweat pooling in the small of his back.
'Circling like a bird of prey.' Ruth turned to Tom. 'If we could get off the open road, under cover
